Things That Go Bump in the Night
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Written for the TV Prompt forum: The Apprentice - "Motel 666". TWOSHOT When Rossi and Reid must share a room on Halloween night, hilarity ensues.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! A couple of notes for you today.**_

_**First, please remember to stop by our forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner" and grab a nomination ballot for the first EVER Profiler's Choice Awards! You have SIX days remaining to nominate your picks and we'd love to hear from each one of you. Come, help us make sure that your favorite stories and authors get the recognition that they deserve.**_

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_**Also at the forum, signups for our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange" are underway! All you need to do is reply to the thread at the forum or send us a PM telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**And, please join us at the forum as we get to know another fellow talented author, Faith4000 in our "Getting To Know" series of interviews and a rousing new discussion thread entitled, "What Do We, the Authors, Owe Our Readers".**_

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**Things That Go Bump in the Night**

**Chapter One**

_**Prompt: The Apprentice - "Motel 666"**_

I swallowed convulsively as my tired eyes focused on garish neon pink flashing sign by the side of the road. Now, I wasn't superstitious by nature, but in our line of work where evil things lurked in plain sight, I had learned the value of spotting an omen.

And that sign...that was a literally glowing portent of doom if I had ever seen one.

"Uhmm...Rossi?" I stuttered, frowning as Dave angled our SUV into the mostly full parking lot, "Did you see the sign back there?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder anxiously, hoping what I'd seen had been the product of my overtaxed imagination.

Nope. Still there. Still blinking. And it still said exactly what I'd thought it said.

"Yeah," Dave grunted, squinting as he tried to see the yellow lines demarking the parking spaces through the thick fog and rain shrouding the night. "It said, Motel 6."

"I...ah...think you might have missed some important additional numbers on the sign," I replied, again darting a look over my shoulder. "It actually says Motel 6-6-6," I said, trying to keep my voice even and level…and failing spectacularly.

Watching as the senior agent looked over his shoulder, I heard his noncommittal grunt. That did not bode well for me.

"Huh. So it does," Dave shrugged, turning back around and cutting the engine with a flick of his wrist.

"What are you doing?" I asked nervously, watching with a frown as he extracted the key from the ignition.

"What do you mean, what am I doing?" Dave asked impatiently, reaching a long arm over his seat and grabbing his go bag. "I'm going to find a bed for the night. What are you doing?"

"Rossi, I don't mean to sound overly sensitized, but don't you think we could find a hotel with a more welcoming name?" I asked, scanning the highway for any other flashing signs. Signs with a more inviting name than Motel 666. Surely one such place existed…didn't it?

"Reid," Rossi replied with a long-suffering sign, "It's just a play on the name. More Halloween propaganda for the masses. I assure you that the motel is not possessed in any shape, form or fashion."

"But..."

"Look, Reid, I've been driving in the pouring rain for over two hours. I'm stiff. I'm tired. And quite frankly, there is only one words on that sign that interests me. Vacancy," he said, stressing the word as he turned to glare, once again, at me.

"Fine," I muttered, eyeing the questionable structure in front of us with a critical eye, feeling his dark eyes boring into me. "But if I'm murdered in my sleep by a homicidal maniac..."

"Trust me, Doctor. The only threat you're under right now is emanating from me," Dave growled as he pushed open his door. "Now, get your bag and let's get a room."

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Fifteen minutes later, I stood wide-eyed beside Rossi as we waited for our geriatric desk clerk to check us in. But for the life of me, I couldn't seem to calm my racing heart, the sign outside flashing through the pane glass windows in a silent mockery of the entire situation. Clearing my throat as the clerk took Dave's credit card and typed information into a computer that had definitely seen better days, I decided to follow my mother's advice. After all, she was the one that had taught me that there was no such thing as a stupid question.

"Uh, sir, may I ask a question?" I inquired haltingly as Dave shot me a disgruntled look from the corner of his eye. Squaring my shoulders, I told myself that I was entitled to one free question…and one phone call in case I was about to witness a murder, namely my own.

Glancing up from his screen, the elderly man adjusted his glasses on the end of his nose and bobbed his head once.

"I...ah...is there a reason that you've added two extra sixes to your sign outside tonight?" I asked, gesturing toward the neon billboard outside.

"Oh, for the love of God," Dave grumbled under his breath. "Would you just let it go?"

"It's a holiday tradition, sonny," the desk clerk answered with a laughing wheeze. "See, this here motel," he said, tapping the scarred desk in front of him, "It was built over a cemetery back in the fifties."

My face must have paled dramatically because I heard Dave groan deep in his throat. "How 'bout those rooms, old timer?" he asked quickly, darting his eyes from me to the motel employee.

"A cemetery?" I echoed, my mouth suddenly dry. Wasn't that the same thing that had happened in more than one Stephen King novel? And we ALL know how those poor characters turned out, don't we?

"Yes, sir," the white haired man nodded emphatically. "Oh, yes, indeed! It caused quite a scandal back in the day! Now, they tell us all those graves were supposedly moved, but every year, management tries to capitalize on our less than popular start. And, I can't deny, that over the years, I heard more than once something goin' bump in the night."

Turning to Dave as the old man passed Dave a room key, I shook my head. "I'm going to take my chances in the SUV tonight," I told him emphatically, crossing my arms over my chest.

Rolling his eyes, Dave glared from me to the motel clerk. "Thank you so much," I heard him tell the old man sarcastically as I hurried out the door. Honestly, at that moment, he could have been discussing an entire discourse on the source and solution of thermodynamic plane shifting and impacts on the space time continuum, and I STILL would have left the room. A man has his priorities, and at that moment, mine was saving my own skin.

A moment later I'm not ashamed to admit that I shrieked like an overwrought teenage girl when I felt someone tug unexpectedly on the back of my shirt, halting me in my tracks.

"Relax, kid, it's me," Rossi muttered as he glanced around self-consciously. "The room's this way," he said, jerking his head in the opposite direction.

"But..."

"Forget about it, Reid. Hotch would kill me if I let you sleep in the damn truck tonight, and there aren't too many men from which I'd worry about that kind of threat. But, knowing Aaron, he'd follow through on it. So, either walk willingly to our room or I can handcuff your ass and drag you there."

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_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

_**Again, thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Hello, friends. A couple of announcements for you all today.**_

_**We have FIVE days left to nominate our favorite stories and authors for first ever ff. net based Profiler's Choice Awards located at "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". The nomination deadline is October 15, 2010. We have had a great response so far and we still want to hear from you. Rules, deadlines, and the blank ballot are all located at the forum (which can be reached thru a link in both my and tonnie2001969's profile pages).**_

_**We'd also like to announce our first ever ff. net based "Criminal Minds Christmas Gift Fic Exchange"! Sign-ups are simple. Participants can either PM us or join on the forum thread. **__**All you need to do is reply to the thread at the forum or send us a PM telling us 1) Which pairings you would feel comfortable writing, 2) the central pairing you'd like to be featured in the story you receive as a Christmas gift, and 3) Name a Christmas carol plus three Christmas-y prompts you'd like to see in the story you receive as a Christmas gift (you'll only have to use three of the four items in the actual fic). Assignments will be given on November 1st and you'll have until DECEMBER 25, 2010 to post your gift. Further details are available at the forum. Please, let's make this a Merry Christmas for ALL!**_

_**We also have a new discussion thread open for your comments called, "What Do We, the Authors, Owe Our Readers?" Please drop by and leave your thoughts.**_

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**Things That Go Bump in the Night**

**Chapter Two**

I could see the dangerous glint shining in the elder man's eyes as he spoke and knew that my options had just been severely limited. How in the world did I end up on a team that was insistent on treating me like their younger brother…or worse, their youngest child? Nodding once, I meekly followed Rossi down the concrete corridor toward our hotel room.

We arrived at our room a moment later, and I'm proud to say that I only screamed once as the paper tombstones fell from the wooden frame as Dave pushed open the door.

Is it my fault some of those things are highly realistic? I blame the decorating industry.

"Oh, for Christ sake," Dave muttered, batting the Halloween decorations out of the way as he strode inside the room and dumped his go bag on one of the beds gracing the center of the room. Holding my breath until Dave had flipped on the lights, I relaxed only slightly as he closed the door and locked it behind us.

Sighing heavily as he turned around to face me, Dave said, "Look, Reid, I'm going to go take a long hot shower and unwind. I suggest you try to do the same thing."

"You want me to take a shower with you?" I asked quizzically. Hmmm…this situation had never developed before. What was proper etiquette for politely declining?

"What?" Dave yelped, his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline as he shook his head rapidly. "No! I meant you need to try and relax. Alone. Out here. While I take a shower."

"Oh," I nodded agreeably. It appeared that Emily Post would not be needed after all. "That makes more sense."

"Glad you think so," Dave muttered, rifling through his bag for clean underwear and his pajamas.

Watching as my colleague strode tiredly toward the miniscule bathroom, I listened as the door closed behind him and the shower began. I tried to allow the sounds to soothe me, to remind me that a teammate and friend was just a mere few feet away...but instead, I heard every creak, moan and groan of the ancient motel around me...each sounding louder than I'd ever heard before.

Honestly, who constructed this place? Lincoln Logs?

Chiding myself for my alarmist mindset, I tried to ignore the resonating claps of thunder and the flashes of lightening occasionally brightening the dim room I sat in. I pulled at the less than adequate curtains, attempting to cover every inch of the wide window, all to no avail. There was still a small crack that allowed copious amounts of light to seep through with every flash.

A good night's sleep...that's what I needed. Quickly deciding to change into my own pajamas, I searched my own go bag, settling on a loose pair of flannel pants and an oversize tee shirt. Nothing like comfort clothes, was there?

I slipped into my sleeping attire quickly as another clap of thunder shook the small room. I leapt into the bed Dave hadn't claimed quickly, pressing my back flush against the headboard as I tried to catch my breath. Logically, I knew that the various atomic particles within the storm were clashing and creating expected, audible disturbances due to the change in the force field. However, personally….I felt like I had been deliberately placed in the midst of the world's worst horror movie…and I was the next victim.

Looking around the room as I heard the water stop running in the bathroom, I tried to convince myself that this wasn't the spooky cement mausoleum my tired brain was processing it as...really, who built a motel on a cemetery anyway? They couldn't have built five miles to the east? I knew we had passed plenty of empty fields and property along the way…hadn't we?

Jumping as the bathroom door unexpectedly opening, releasing a wave of warm steam into the bedroom, I frowned. Just what I needed...the room shrouded in mist. Talk about ambiance...

"You still awake, kid?" Dave asked gruffly, pulling the towel from around his neck and throwing toward the hamper in the corner of the room.

"No, I'm doing my impression of a zombie," I bit out, proud of my little quip.

Raising one eyebrow, Dave sighed.

Have I mentioned how much he does that, by the way? At any rate, I watched him rifle through his bag again, pulling out a thin silver flask.

Catching the lightweight metal midair as Dave tossed it toward me, I frowned. "What's this?" I asked, inspecting the container in my hands. Heavy…silver…and obviously filled with some sort of liquid that caused it to lose its center of gravity with each turn.

"Drink it," Dave ordered gruffly, picking up the bag on his bed and dropping it beside his bed.

Cocking my head as I stared at the older man as he crawled underneath his covers and yawned, I repeated my question. "What is it?"

"Medicine," Dave replied as he dropped onto the pillow, closing his eyes.

"What kind of medicine?" I asked, unscrewing the cap and sniffing the contents warily. Wrinkling my nose, I looked at the man in the bed next to me. "This medicine smells remarkably like whiskey," I stated suspiciously.

"A happy coincidence," Rossi shrugged, his eyes remaining tightly closed. "It's a magical sleeping potion in honor of Halloween. Just take a belt, Reid." Cracking one eyelid, Dave intoned, "But do me a favor and save at least one dose for me...I've got a feeling I'm gonna need it bunking down with you."

Well, I thought to myself, at that point I knew I had nothing to lose. And after all, if I was going to be murdered in my sleep, I would much prefer to go peacefully. I had a feeling I just might be a screamer.

And with that last thought, I took my first sip.

/#/

And seventeen medicinal doses later, David Rossi finally got his opportunity to medicate himself. Pulling the covers up over his finally lightly snoring charge, Dave shook his head as he retrieved his flask from the younger man's slack hand.

Shaking his head as he flipped off the bedside light, Dave smiled faintly. "Happy Halloween to all, and to all a good night."

_**Finis**_

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_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

_**Again, thanks to everyone reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting this story!**_


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